


the simplest option

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Idiots in Love, Library Sex, M/M, Mindless Fluff, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:39:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>where Sam works at his university's library and has a ridiculous crush on the freshman who always comes to ask for book advice. Also, where medieval philosophy happens to be actually useful for something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the simplest option

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theons/gifts).



> this was written for the yescon-asoiaf kink meme - the prompt being _librarian!Sam helps out student!Jon with his homework whenever he comes into the library (Jon pretends to not know what he's doing just so he can talk to the adorable librarian, and Sam pretends not to realise that Jon actually knows quite a lot just so he can talk to the adorable student) - bonus: they have sex in the library after closing hours._ This pretty much follows the prompt - also writing this pretty much validated all the medieval philosophy finals I had to go through because they finally turned out to be in fact useful for something... anyway, nothing belongs to me except the setting.

“Excuse me?”

Sam’s head jerks upwards as he recognizes the voice, the book he was holding in his hands almost falling to the ground, but he manages not to let it as he stands up from his chair and leans on the desk.

Yes. It’s _him_.

“How can I help you?”

The other student – _Jon Snow_ , Sam would know since he’s checked him into the library and saw the name on his card since the semester started – gives him a small smile before clearing his throat and Sam hopes against hope that he’s not blushing outwardly or giving out that he’s been harboring a crush the size of War and Peace since the guy handed him his library card the first time.

“Well, I was wondering – you know that medieval philosophy class Jaime Lannister teaches?”

“Sure, I took it a couple of years ago.” He also wonders why Jon would take that class when he studies psychology, and he’d know since he’s checked out a good number of books for him.

“Thing is, I had to take it because for some reason I can’t fathom I needed a philosophy class and they told me he wasn’t boring, which – he’s _not_ , but since it’s not my thing I really could use a middle ages philosophy textbook for dummies, since he takes half of the stuff for granted. Do you have any advice on what I could get?”

“Uhm – sure, I think so,” Sam answers, hoping that he’s not coming off like a spaz. “What’s the class about this year?”

“William of Ockham.”

“Oh. Right. Okay, let me think a moment – right, I’m going to check the database.”

“Sure. I’m not in a hurry.”

Sam hides himself behind the library’s desktop and tries to will his fingers to stay still as he types in and sees if they still have the books he’s thinking of. They do – he grabs a piece of paper from the side and scribbles down the titles before handing it over to Jon.

“Right. The first is a pretty good general textbook – it was an introduction to the entire thing so it should be easy enough to get, the second is specifically about Ockham, but the style was – kind of the same thing. And – no, nothing.”

“What? You can say it.” Jon is half-grinning again and Sam wishes that the earth would open under his feet and swallow him – better that than the humiliation he’s about to experience, for sure.

“I just – I got my undergrad in philosophy – not _that_ specifically, but I had to take some classes about it throughout so if you need help – like, uhm, you can ask. But just if you do.”

“Hey, no need to look miserable about it. I appreciate the offer, actually. I’ll let you know after I give these a read, what about it?” 

“Of – of course. Well. Have a good day then.”

Jon winks at him before leaving and _fuck_ , that should be illegal. Sometimes Sam thinks that someone is up there and hates him, because the last thing he needed was to make a fool of himself in front of – of a guy that pretty much checks every box in the list of boxes on Sam’s imaginary ideal guy form. Same height as him, well built and lean but not overtly muscled, that dark hair and grey eyes – and the thing is that Jon looks like a pretty serious, private person (he’s definitely not the kind who comes to the library with friends just to waste time), but when he does smile at him or at some friends of his that he meets on the outside he just goes straight into beyond gorgeous territory (starting from gorgeous, obviously), and Sam feels like some stupid twelve year old girl that falls prey to a hormonal crisis once every three hours.

Not that Sam is ever going to make a move – he’s learned his lesson the only time he ever asked someone out in high school and wasn’t allowed to forget it for the next two years. But – looking can’t hurt, can it?

\--

Jon does, in fact come back for further help with the general text.

Sam had never thought that he’d ever feel thankful for the mere existence of Anselm of Canterbury’s theistic proofs – not his favorite subject ever –, but as he explains both to Jon, he decides that he’s, indeed, deeply grateful.

He also would have never thought that taking a class on Arab philosophy in the middle ages would have ever turned out to be useful, but as he breaks down Averroes’ system to Jon a bit after closing hours, he congratulates himself on his past decisions. This is the most he’s going to get, though, and he knows that. Sure, he doesn’t know why Jon is so set on asking for explanations since he seems to catch on to it pretty quickly, but then again it’s stuff that might seem obscure at first glance.

\--

This until one day he has the morning shift. He switches places with Gilly as he leaves his place behind the desk, figuring that he’ll go get some lunch before coming back in and looking up some more books for his master’s, and he’s taken a few steps on the outside towards the lunch hall when he hearts Jon talking to one of his friends beyond the corner.

From the voice, he thinks it’s the pretty redhead – he always assumed they were dating, and so he resolves to walk away since he doesn’t need to torture himself further, but when he hears a certain sentence he has to stop behind the corner.

“Jon, seriously, how do you – how do you know _nothing_? This is – this feels like watching the slowest trainwreck ever and watching you pretend that you have no clue about stuff you actually know is making me want to stab my eyes with a fork. Or something.”

“Come on, what else should I do?”

She huffs loudly enough that Sam can hear even if he’s not seeing them.

“What else – maybe you should just fess up? What about it?”

“Fess – come on, no.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Come on, who says he likes men? And even if he did – I’d probably bore him to death in two days. Also – come on, I’m like three years younger, he won’t even look at me in that sense.”

“You seriously know nothing,” Ygritte says, and then Sam hears them leaving and going the other way. He hears also pieces of sentences – Jon definitely says something about this other person possibly not finding _him_ interesting, which is every kind of stupid. Who the hell would not find Jon interesting?

He shakes his head and goes to get lunch – he’s obviously overthinking this. It’s not as if they were talking about someone he knows, anyway, so why bothering?

\--

Jon drops by just before closing time two days later – the usual time he drops by when he would like something explained.

“Hey,” he says, looking a bit… not uncomfortable. Maybe flustered? “I was wondering, could you spare fifteen?”

“Of – of course,” Sam stammers as he shuts down the computer. “Give me a moment and I’m over there. Always the introduction text?”

“Uhm, no. The one about Ockham.”

“Oh. What about that?”

“Just – I think I need a bit of clarification about the whole razor deal? Like, it’s not what they told me in high school and it’s a bit confusing, actually.”

“Of course. Yeah, I remember that the first time I kind of felt cheated too. Uhm, just – okay, this is done, good. Let’s just go grab a table inside? I’m supposed to lock it up later, so…”

“Sure.”

They go sit at a nice table near the window – the sun is on his way to setting, but there’s still enough light.

“All right. So – er – the deal is about him never having put it in the terms that they say he put it, right?”

“Yes. Pretty much that.” Jon grabs a notebook from his backpack and Sam just can’t believe that someone would be taking notes out of something he’s saying, and damn but Jon has nice hands, but – right. Fine. Back on track.

“So, the thing – the thing is that they named that principle after him because it’s heavily recurring in the entirety of his work, but he never exactly phrased it as – how was it, _entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity_?”

“Yeah, that definitely was in my high school textbook.”

“Well, yeah, that never happened. It’s kind of like Sherlock Holmes never having said _elementary, Watson_ , you know? Anyway, so, he did use it, just not that way. It was someone else who used that phrasing actually –”

“John Punch,” Jon murmurs under his breath, and then his cheeks flush red at once, as if he has just been caught saying something he shouldn’t have, and –

Wait a moment.

No one with a problem understanding this would even know who John Punch was.

“… do you already know all of this?” Sam asks, cautiously.

Jon blushes further and clears his throat.

“Well. It’s – complicated. Though… no, maybe not. Okay, can you just bear with me a moment before I answer you?”

“… sure?”

“All right. So. How would you actually define the darned Ockham’s razor? Not as a textbook would.”

“Uhm. Get rid of all unnecessary complications while you’re considering some hypothesis and the simplest option will be the most likely?”

“Yeah. I might… not exactly have put that into practice in the last few months, but… right. Yes, I kind of knew that all already – or better, I didn’t know some things, but I really didn’t need help with any of this, it was easy enough. And Lannister actually did give us some extra textbooks to make it easier on us.”

“So – so you were pretending not to know that?”

“Caught in a trap. Yes. So. Use Ockham’s razor. What's the simplest reason why I would have done all this?”

“That you wanted an excuse to talk to me?” Sam asks before biting down on his own tongue. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t assume –”

“Why not, when you’re right?”

Jon’s flush has gone from slight to deep pink by now, and Sam isn’t sure that he’s believing his own eyes or ears.

“I’m – I’m _what_?”

“No need to go finding _unnecessary explanations_ , Sam. I wanted an excuse and couldn’t come up with anything better.”

“But – but why?”

Jon raises an eyebrow and moves his elbows further up on the table, moving the books out of the way.

“What would that same principle suggest you?”

Sam knows that if Jon’s cheeks are deep pink, his own must be cherry red. “I don’t – you don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. Don’t – I thought you had a girlfriend? The redhead?”

“Ygritte? Nah. We’ve been friends for ages, but she’s really not my girlfriend. It happens that I don’t swing that way.”

“And _you_ like _me_?”

“Are you joking? I’ve been into you since you gave freshmen a tour of the place when the semester started.”

“ _What_?” Sam remembers now – the first day of every start of the academic year students in the master’s degree usually show freshmen around and Sam had showed a bunch of new people around the library, explained them how it worked and its history and everything, and Jon must have been in the group.

“Don’t be so surprised. I thought you were cute. Then I looked you up – I was kind of hoping you’d be in psychology, too, but that obviously wasn’t happening. And – uhm – I might have attended a couple of those moral philosophy classes you substituted for in the first month. Just because. And – just – you’re brilliant, all right? And you’re still cute, as far as I’m concerned. And – well, I couldn’t find a better excuse to talk to you?” He sounds embarrassed now, and Sam is pretty sure that he must be dreaming this.

“I – uhm – I just –”

“That’s okay, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. And it’s not like I thought you’d like me back or something, so I’ll just leave and –”

“No,” he almost shouts, but then he takes a breath and when he sees that Jon isn’t leaving he hopes that he’ll be able to put this in decent words. “I – it’s not that. Actually – I thought you couldn’t possibly be interested in me. It’s like, er, I don’t exactly have a line of people outside my door for those purposes. If you get what I mean.”

For a moment, Jon glares down at the table. “I get what you mean. And it’s a pity – you should have that.”

“I – I should?”

“I told you before. You’re pretty much the nicest person around this stupid campus and you certainly were the only one who didn’t look down at freshmen just because we were freshmen on that first day. You could rant at me about Hume’s opinion on suicide for hours and I’d be glad to hear that. And – uhm, if I gathered right – well, I’m interested. If you are.”

Sam swallows, wondering if he can actually pull this off. His hands are sweating as he looks up at Jon again.

“What is Ockham’s razor suggesting you?”

Jon slowly stands up and moves on the chair next to his, his hand reaching out and touching Sam’s wrist. Sam thinks that he’s going to burst out of his own skin with tension. “The simplest hypothesis, right now, seems to be that Ygritte was right when she said I knew nothing?”

“I – I wouldn’t – you seem to know more than something?”

“That wasn’t the point,” Jon mutters. “So,” he says a moment later, moving so close that they’re within touching distance, “should I test if I’m right?”

“Please do,” Sam blurts, and then – then Jon’s legs go around his own and Jon is leaning down and kissing him stupid while Sam’s head is pressed against the books in the shelf behind him, and – and Jon seems to really mean it. He has his hands on Sam’s cheeks, touching so very gently, and his mouth traces Sam’s lips as Sam parts them for him, and then –

No, kissing girls during stupid spin the bottle games isn’t nowhere near this. Jon is kissing like he means it, and Sam can’t help kissing back without even blinking, their tongues touching all along, and fuck but Jon moans into Sam’s mouth like there’s no tomorrow after merely seconds and Sam can’t even think anymore at that.

When they part they’re both panting hard and the sun is almost setting, and Jon is grinning wide enough that Sam can see most of his teeth and he knows he must be sporting that same expression.

“So I guess Ockham’s razor is never wrong…?” Sam says when it’s been seconds and neither of them has spoken.

“Christ,” Jon replies, “that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

And – and – now that Sam notices it, Jon’s cock is half-hard against his thigh and _good god it can’t be happening but it is_.

“… that feels so weird,” Sam admits.

“Maybe, but it was. And I’m pretty sure I can’t wait until we get to whichever of our rooms is closer.”

“Wait – wait, you want to –”

“It’s dark,” Jon replies, shrugging and grinding against Sam’s hips. “No one’s here. You have the keys. And I really want to blow you right now. I don’t see a problem with it.”

“You – you don’t?”

“For the moment. And then I think we could catch up with lost time and actually get on a bed.”

He’s already slipped to his knees, all graceful and lean, his hands on Sam’s hips as if he likes everything that he sees, and –

Sam is going to question his luck later.

“I’m down with it,” he blurts, feeling heat rising to his cheeks.

“Good,” Jon simply replies, and his hands go to Sam’s belt.

So it’s a good thing that they’re alone and that it’s dark, because the moment Jon’s lips touch his cock Sam moans so shamelessly it’s almost embarrassing, and when Jon actually takes him in his mouth he forgets that embarrassment exists – just looking down at Jon’s lovely mouth wrapped around his cock is enough to make Sam get harder at the sight, and Jon has barely done anything. Then his head starts moving up and down, sucking down on the tip of his dick gently at first and faster later, and Sam reaches down with shaky hands, touching Jon’s hair – it’s dark and soft and the perfect length to pull on, and maybe it’s embarrassing that it doesn’t last long (or better, he thinks it doesn’t – he’s quite losing track of time), but as he comes into Jon’s very willing mouth later, his head still pressed against a pile of books and his fingers tangled into Jon’s hair, he’s not really thinking at all. He comes harder than he ever thought he could come, and he can’t believe that Jon swallows instead of moving away, but when he moves away Sam just feels every kind of good and Jon looks very satisfied with what he sees.

Then he notices that there’s a dark patch on Jon’s jeans.

“Uhm – I was going to ask if you needed a hand, but –”

“Not for now,” Jon agrees. “But I might be more than willing to go for a round two when we actually get to a bed. How about that?”

He’s grinning again as he says it, and as Sam nods eagerly and pulls his jeans up before grabbing the keys to the library, decides that he can’t lock the damned building soon enough.

End.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Simplest Option (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5510261) by [auroreanrave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave), [janie_tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine)




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